


So I Walked Past This Shop And This Made Me Think Of You

by ServantOfMischief



Series: Soft Comforts [5]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: ALL THE HAPPY TIMES, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Christmas Shopping, Christmas gift for Pinkpiggy93, Christmas times, Fluff, Happy times, M/M, angel mug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-18 02:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21720445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ServantOfMischief/pseuds/ServantOfMischief
Summary: It's Christmas. Hooray. Bloody hurrah. No, but seriously, Crowley hates stomping around outside in shops just a day before Christmas. One would think people thought the bloody world was endingI do not consent to my work being reposted, or used in any unofficial apps like Fanfic Pocket Archive Library (Unofficial) or the like!
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Soft Comforts [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1477544
Comments: 51
Kudos: 370
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs





	So I Walked Past This Shop And This Made Me Think Of You

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a Christmas gift for Pinpiggy93 on tumblr. Thank you for being such a wonderful person, for everything you've done for me this year, and for all the beautiful and heart-rendering art you've been sharing with us all! 
> 
> Also, alternative title: The Fifth Part That Wasn't Supposed To Happen, HoHoHo
> 
> I do not consent to my work being reposted, or used in any unofficial apps like Fanfic Pocket Archive Library (Unofficial) or the like!

Anthony J. Crowley has never been much of a fan of Christmas. Not when he was a child, and especially not when he was an adult, but for Tonya he could make an exception. And now with Aziraphale, he’ll begrudgingly accept that yes, Christmas isn’t the _worst_ holiday. Even Beelzebub uses to come home by then, staying at Babylon’s during the holiday. He can appreciate the family gatherings, though it really isn’t a big gathering by any means, but the whole stress of bloody Christmas and all the people running about, yelling and pushing and nearly body-slamming him to get to whatever it is they want when he’s just minding his own business is rather infuriating.

Jesus Christ people! He’d sometimes mutter, actually whisper-yell loud enough for several to hear him. This is why he does most of his Christmas shopping _way before_ Christmas is even on people’s minds. Saves him the trouble of elbowing some poor sod in the fucking face because by Somebody, he will if he has to. But being arrested for accidental (not so accidental assault) is not on his agenda in life. It would be such a pain in the arse, really.

But Crowley remembers it, though he doesn’t quite know how or why he does, because all he had seen had been the ruined shards Aziraphale had carried away in all haste back then, but this mug, this mug looks a lot like the one Aziraphale dropped, doesn’t it? White, at least. The angel wings, well, he thinks it had wings, it looked like it at least. It’s been such a long time but… yeah, it definitively had something that looked like wings.

Didn’t it?

Well, Crowley immediately thought of Aziraphale when he saw it, so he’ll be buying it. For him. He’s actually already got Aziraphale a gift, as he had started finishing his _very_ short list in august, but the mug is coming with him. He enters the shop, tries to ignore the pure chaos that is in the shop, tries not to be incredibly amazed at how people manage to avoid sending anything crashing to the floor despite pushing and snapping at each other. Because a lot of the items in here are very fragile and stacked up in rather perilous and slanting dangerously in every direction. He’s pretty sure one of them are wobbling, and he’s not intention of being around when it finally tumbles over and causes a mess of shattered glass. No, he’s just going to grab the mug, pay for it, maybe have the clerk wrap it up for him, and then just fuck off right out of there. He can only find the one, and he picks it up, checks that it is indeed flawless and doesn’t even have a chip in it, before turning around, heading to the cash register.

There’s a commotion beside him and he manages to avoid two arguing women barrelling towards him, a swipe of an arm, someone diving in front of him to tear something out of someone’s hands, which results in a brawl nearing breaking out, before he finally is in the safe space around the register. The poor employee behind the desk looks like they’ve had all joy and life sucked out of them, and Crowley almost pities them. Nobody should stand here in this bloody circus, but someone has to.

Crowley wonders if all of what the employees in shops experiences during Christmas times can be chalked up as emotional trauma. It should though, really. Crowley feels traumatized just walking out the bloody door. Even so, he must admit that the way the cashier suddenly just musters up a bright smile, all the shadows disappearing from their face, is incredibly spectacular.

Poor sod must be really dependent on this job to make things go around.

“Hello! Did you find what you needed?”

“Yeah. Mind wrapping it up for me?” Crowley asks as he hands over the mug to the cashier, who nods and rings him up, wrapping the mug in a garish Christmas paper. If it isn’t for the fact that the poor bastard is staying here, working the day before Christmas and look like shit, Crowley would have commented on it. While Crowley doesn’t have the highest opinion on himself (his personality, not his looks, because he knows damn well he looks good), but not even he is enough of a douche to make this person’s day even worse than it already is. So when the gift is wrapped, (rather well too, but that might be because Crowley is so shit at it that even a toddle can do it better than him), he thanks the cashier, wishes them a sincere Merry Christmas, and turns around, steeling himself. He managed to get to the counter unharmed, now he has to get to the doors. It all goes rather well, he thinks. He can hear something fall over, shatter on the ground, and winces. The sound is loud, and poor sod who’ll have to clean that up.

He’s suddenly being shoved, but he manages to catch himself, turning around to snap at whoever pushed him, only to see an elbow come straight for him.

**\---X----X----X**

Babylon is used to Aziraphale and Crowley coming at the same time when they have family dinners, because Crowley always picks Aziraphale up on the way to her flat. But today Aziraphale is the first to arrive, a bag filled with a few daintily wrapped presents. Obviously, her brother is not the one who made an attempt here.

“Where’s Anthony?” She asks and Aziraphale furrows his brows.

“He said he’d meet me here. He told me he had something to do first.”

“What would that be?” Babylon hums. “He was out yesterday, and he hates walking around shops during December. Too many people running around.”

“I do understand that. He sounded odd over the telephone though. I am slightly worried.” Aziraphale admits but Babylon waves him off.

“Don’t worry, he wouldn’t dare miss Christmas. Tonya would never let him hear the end of it if he did. And he’d never do anything to disappoint her.” Aziraphale knows Babylon is right. The little girl has her uncle wrapped around her little finger, both figuratively and literally. Crowley will come, he always does. Before Aziraphale can ponder why Crowley told him to go ahead though, Tonya runs out and leaps at the blonde man who just barely catches her in time.

“Oof, my dear!” He says as he hoists her up. “You’re getting to be too big for this.”

“Never!” Tonya says, giggling heartily as she hugs Aziraphale. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, my dear.” He returns sweetly before letting her down, and she leads him inside and shows him where to put down the presents. Beelzebub is already there, though she’s on the phone, seeming to almost have this (dare Aziraphale think it) fond expression on her face? She’s speaking in hushed tones, and when she sees him enter with Tonya, he gets a nod, the most amendable greeting she’ll ever give anyone, before turning away to continue her conversation over the phone. Tonya takes the bag from Aziraphale, and the man tells the child that he will go help her mother out in the kitchen. Tonya nods, and moves to dump the presents beneath the huge tree and start counting them.

Aziraphale heads into the kitchen, watches Babylon trying to wrestle something out of the oven and moves over, taking the mitts from her.

“Let me, my dear.” He says and pulls the tray out of the oven. “Anthony told me Beelzebub will be moving back here sometime in January.” He says, keeping up some small talk as Babylon is rummaging around in the cupboards, pulling out a nice serving plate.

“Yeah, she says so. I’m glad though, it’ll be so nice to have her close, so I can actually see her more than three times a year.” Babylon grins at him, though there’s something strained in her expression and Aziraphale frowns.

“What’s wrong?” And she shakes her head.

“You’re too perceptive.”

“Oh, well, I am rather nosy, aren’t I?” He jokes and she laughs a bit.

“I thought Anthony had told you why she’s coming back.”

“Well, I have heard that Beelzebub had met someone, but that’s about it. I didn’t pry too much into it.” Babylon nods, and says that it’s true that Beelzebub has met someone, and that it is partly the reason why Beelzebub is coming back to London, and she seems a bit conflicted, until Tonya runs inside the kitchen, and Babylon plasters on a wide grin at the girl’s excitement.

“Uncle Tony’s car is here!”

“Then you best go open the door for him, yes?” Babylon says, and the child runs off again.

“Are you quite alright, my dear?”

“Oh yes, just a bit stressed, really. Not that it matters, because it’s over, but… it’s rather annoying that they actually tried.”

“I truly am at a loss for what you’re talking about.”

“Tonya’s grandparents… they tried to file a case against me.”

“They what now?” Aziraphale exclaims quietly, leaning down, frowning. “Young Mr. Oliver’s parents?”

“Mine too.”

“Both?” Aziraphale splutters, before casting a glance at the door leading into the kitchen. He can’t hear anyone coming, but he speaks up quietly, just in case.

“For what? What were the charges?”

“Well, I’ve never once let any of them meet Tonya, so they’re pissed about that. That was a condition I gave Oliver, if he was going to be a part of Tonya’s life, his parents were to be kept away from her. And he agreed, and has done as asked too. My own parents threw me out when they were told by Oliver’s parents that I was pregnant, so I decided that if they didn’t want me around when pregnant with the girl, I didn’t want them around her, period.”

“And?”

“Well, didn’t hear anything from them for years, until she was four. That’s when they started demanding to see her. But as the parent, I had every right to say no, and I stuck by that. I consulted with Beelz, and she made sure I knew my rights. And four months ago, they filed a case against me.”

“The charges?”

“Unfit to be a mother. They wanted the guardianship to be signed over to them, or Oliver, so that they can meet her without me interfering.”

“How outrageous!” Aziraphale snaps. “You, my dear, is the best mother Tonya could ever have asked for, and they have no right to say otherwise!” He’s not speaking so loud that anyone outside the kitchen can hear, not that they would hear anyway with the loud blasting of cheerful Christmas carols over the speakers, suddenly, probably courtesy of Crowley, but still. And Babylon gives him a wobbly, watery smile.

“Thank you, Aziraphale. Well, it didn’t work out. For them. Beelzebub flew right back, she’s the family lawyer after all, and she had recordings of when we talked with our parents when I was pregnant. Everything there was working against them. The judge wouldn’t even take it to court. Just filed them all as unfit to ever meet Tonya. So, yeah, worked out, but now Beelz won’t stay in the States anymore.”

“So, she’s coming back to make sure they can’t get up to more, pardon my language, codswallop?” And at this Babylon bursts out laughing, nearly doubling over the kitchen counter.

“Codswallop?” She wheezes out, and Aziraphale is happy that his rather old timer language is amusing her so much. He waits for her to calm down, and she wipes the tears from the corner of her eyes.

“You’re allowed to say ‘bullshit’ under my roof.”

“Absolutely not. It’s uncouth.”

“Codswallop, my god.” She giggles, before shaking her head. “But yes, that’s one of the reasons. Oliver also stuck to my side here, for once we were on the same page. He told the lawyers that should he be given guardianship of Tonya, as the single parent, he’d rather send her back to me than ever let her meet her grandparents.”

“Hm, that sounds like he is finally getting around to do ‘adulting’ right.”

“He’s gotten better.” Babylon admits. “Has showed up to her birthdays the past two years without needing any prompting. And you know, I thought he would try and go over the top with presents and all that, to make up for things, you know, but no. Modest, and nice things she actually needs. I’m pretty sure that he was abducted and swapped with an alien.” Aziraphale laughs a bit at that too, before he asks if she needs any help.

“No, go out there, sit down while I finish up here. Dinner will be served in ten minutes or so.”

“Alright. Do call if you need me though.” He tells her, before leaving for the living room, where Beelzebub and Crowley are having a conversation while Tonya is tugging on Crowley’s hand.

“That’s a real one.”

“You can’t see shit.”

“Uncle Tony, that’s a bad word!”

“Shit, sorry.”

“I’ll tell mom!”

“I can see it. You did a terrible job hiding it. Take them off and tell us what happened.” Crowley pouts, but does as told and removes his glasses. Aziraphale gasps in shock. Crowley is black and blue around his left eye, and oh dear, it looks swollen. Beelzebub cackles.

“Oh look at that shiner!”

“Uncle Tony, what happened?” Tonya tugs harder at his hand.

“Oh shut it you!” Crowley snaps at Beelzebub before handing Tonya a small present and tells her to put it with the others. “This is why I don’t go out shopping during Christmas times.”

“What? You got into a fight with someone who wanted the same thing?” Beelzebub grasps his chin, turning his face so she can get a proper look at the bruise.

“For your information,” Crowley slaps her hand away, “I was just leaving a shop, got shoved, turned around-“

“And BAM!” Beelzebub claps her hands together, the resounding smack loud in the room, nearly overpowering even the music.

“… I hate you.” Crowley mutters, only to stop when Aziraphale steps up to him.

“Oh they did a number on you.” The blonde mutters and Crowley’s jaw works around, trying to articulate some words to placate the blonde, but he just can’t, so instead he looks rather ridiculous. And Tonya points that out.

“Uncle Tony always turns to jelly when Uncle Azi is here.” And Crowley pulls himself free.

“You’ve become awfully cheeky since you started school, kid!”

“It’s not cheeky if it’s facts, uncle Tony, you know that!” The girl laughs, clinging to Beelzebub, partly hiding behind her as the dark-haired woman sniggers. Crowley rolls his eyes at that, but before anything more can be said, Babylon requests help to carry the food from the kitchen to the kitchen table. As they help, she takes one long look at Crowley and raises a brow.

“What happened to you?” Her answer is an annoyed grumble as he pouts, and she shrugs, leaving it alone. Dinner is pleasant, as it always is. Aziraphale finds that even if it is only the three, and now him the fourth person, it still is cosy. It doesn’t have to be a large family to have a lovely gathering on Christmas Eve and enjoy good food and company. And this little group is proof of that. There are slow conversations, in which Tonya breaks in and says she looks forward to when her auntie moves to London. She says she wants sleepovers at her new place, to which Beelzebub stiffly nods, but gives Babylon a look over the girl’s head.

“We’ll have to see about that.” Babylon says instead, trying to keep her laughter back.

“I think it sounds like a great idea.” Crowley supports his niece, grinning far too innocently at his older sibling. “You can watch Frozen, sing some songs, braid each other’s hair.” Aziraphale elbows him subtly beneath the table as Beelzebub glares at the redhead, and Crowley rolls his eyes.

“Fine, fine.” He relents. Aziraphale helps Babylon do the dishes, and Beelzebub and Crowley brings out desserts and cakes, and once everyone sits with a cup of tea or coffee, a plate filled some deliciousness, is when Tonya can’t keep herself in check anymore.

“Presents!” The eight-year-old squeals and dives for the neatly wrapped items under the tree. She tears through three of her own rather quickly, and squeals as she shows her mother what her father got her. A rather soft and extremely comfortable looking pyjamas, along with a adorable pair of koala slippers. She looks very happy with that and asks her mother to remind her to call her dad once they’re done so she can thank him properly for the gift. Then she goes about giving the others their gifts too, just to have her own experience drag out quite a bit, and Crowley gifts Aziraphale with a precious little tartan bowtie, to which he gets a hearty hug for. But then, when it truly should only be Tonya’s gifts left, the blonde girl picks up the gift Crowley had brought earlier, and frowns.

“Uncle Tony, you got Uncle Azi two gifts?” And this makes Aziraphale sit up a bit straighter, looking at Crowley questioningly, who runs a hand through his hair in an embarrassed fashion.

“Yeah, I, uh, I found something yesterday. Thought of you when I saw it, angel.” Aziraphale stares at him for a long moment, before turning towards Tonya when she bounds up to him, handing it over. She climbs up onto the couch, halfway draping herself over the blonde man’s shoulder as he unwraps it, only to stare.

And there it is. The mug with the angel wings. Crowley watches as Aziraphale just stares, and then beings a rather nervous rambling when the blonde says nothing.

“Saw it in a store window yesterday, and I began to think about the mug you dropped the first time I entered your shop, and I thought it looked the same, though I’m not really sure it did, I just thought it did. Did it?” He asks, and groans when Aziraphale shakes his head.

“No, it didn’t have wings. It was a regular looking tea-cup.”

“Ah shit.” Crowley curses, embarrassed by his ramblings, and wanting to sink into the cushions.

“Swear jar.” Babylon says, narrowing her eyes at her brother. It was one thing for him to curse around Tonya when she was a baby, it is something completely different when she’s an eight-year old.

“Ah fu-“

_“Swear jar!”_

“Fine, sorry, fine!” Crowley throws his hands up, as he moves to launch himself off the couch, but a hand yanks him back down, fisting in the fabric by his collar and pulls him forward, smashing his mouth rather ungracefully against Aziraphale’s.

“Hmpfg?” His words, or are they even words, are muffled against Aziraphale’s mouth, who bites lightly at Crowley’s lower lip, before he lets go.

“I love it, darling.” Aziraphale says as he pushes away the wrappings. “Pardon me, I think I’ll go wash this and use it immediately.” He tells Babylon who nods, lips pressed tightly together as she watches her brother slump onto the couch, wide-eyed and a little bit lost. Only when Aziraphale is out of earshot does she finally release a giggle, and Beelzebub a snort. Tonya asks what’s so funny, even more so when her aunty lets slip the words: “Look who’s got himself a number tonight.” And the girl keeps asking what that means until her mother unlocks her phone and hands it to her.

“Call your dad, tell him thank you for your present.” Babylon says through her own snickers and Tonya pouts, but does as told. When Aziraphale returns, he looks rather confused.

“Did I miss something funny?” And that just makes the two women laugh louder as Crowley covers his face with his arm.

“Ngk. I hate you all. Not you, Aziraphale, them. I love you.”

“I love you too, my dear.” Tonya comes back sometime later, having changed into her dad’s Christmas present, and crawls up to sit between Crowley and Aziraphale in her new pyjamas, and having the blonde read her a story.

They fall asleep like that, the little girl nestled between her uncles, and Babylon can’t help herself before she pulls her daughter up. She snaps a picture, and decides that this, this will the Christmas picture she’ll print out this year.


End file.
